I appreciate all your ongoing support. For those that think all the guys in this story are disgusting, I am with you. Mr. Darcy would justify that he is hardly in the same category as his Cousin John, that he is better than him, but I still think Darcy is in for a bigger fall than he can anticipate. He has reasons for all that he's done, but is hardly objective about his own actions.
I do want to reassure you that there will eventually be a HEA for ODC, but that can't take place with the Mr. Darcy that we have now. He will have to do some serious changing in that attitude of his.
FF has freaked me out today. I went to the webpage of my profile to click on this story, to see if I had any more reviews I needed to respond to, and this story was not listed among my stories as it usually is (at the top of my profile it said I'd published 26 stories, but the under my stories tab it lists 25 stories instead of 26). Then I went and scrolled through all the Pride and Prejudice stories and found it there. It was also still in my list of stories on the app and listed under "manage stories" under my publish tab. I am hoping this is just some weird glitch and no-one has reported me running afoul of the "M" rating. I don't think I have put in anything "MA" in this story (and I've sure seen stories on here where that line has been crossed again and again). Characters have discussed things in some detail, but we have not been "in scene" for any of them.
12. Georgiana's Sacrifice
On my way to Hertfordshire, rather than simply pass through London in my carriage, I determined that I ought to go see Georgiana as I was not sure how long my business with Miss Elizabeth might take. Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley were in residence at the Earl's home, and while I briefly greeted my uncle and aunt, I explained that I was in some hurry and needed to speak with my sister. I said nothing about Richard's plans.
Georgiana was happy to see me. She smiled a smile much wider than was polite at my entrance and ran toward me, although she stopped short of embracing me, tempering her reaction no doubt so as not as to offend the Countess who did not like such displays.
Georgiana had stayed in London rather than go to Kent. She preferred the Countess to our aunt by blood. Whereas once I might have trusted her to remain safe in my London home under the supervision of her companion, that all changed after the incident with George Wickham; after Ramsgate she always stayed with the Earl and Countess when I was not in residence and she did not accompany me. In fact, Georgiana had stayed with them during my visit to Kent the prior Easter as well.
Georgiana embraced me, kissed me on the cheek and declared, "What a fine present it is for you to come early for me. I was not expecting you for another week. Shall we leave for Derbyshire today?"
As I did not want to discuss personal business before the household, I suggested, "Let us take a walk in the rose gardens and we can discuss our future plans."
Their London rose gardens were of course nothing to those on the Earl's grand estate, the London air not being conducive to strong blooms, and it was yet early for roses, but going outside would grant us a modicum of privacy, far less than I desired, but it was all that could be arranged just then.
Once we were outside, Georgiana took up my arm with some fondness and asked again, "Dear Fitz, shall we be leaving soon? I am ready for fresh air, for some quiet. The Countess is kind enough, but London is not home and I have missed you."
I did not like to disappoint her and explained "I am sorry, but I have some personal affairs to attend to and do not yet know when I will be able to retrieve you and take you to Derbyshire."
"Are you going to marry Anne then?" Georgiana asked with wide eyes. "Have you come to London to retrieve some of mother's jewels for her?" She did not show either happiness or unhappiness at the prospect, something more along the order of resignation.
"No," I told her. "I have not yet made a decision as far as that is concerned."
The year prior, having heard Miss Elizabeth's reproofs, I thought to try to be a better man or at least a better brother for my sister's sake. I resolved that I should not always dictate, tried to at times imagine her point of view, asked her to tell me what she was thinking, feeling. She had indeed bloomed under such care, gained a certain courage that did me good to see. A year ago, Georgiana would never have dared to ask me such a question.
As for more general changes I tried to wrought, I had largely given them up when I learned that the worst had happened to poor Miss Lydia because Miss Elizabeth had not believed me as to the character of one George Wickham. I had shared my sister's deepest secret with her, but that had evidently not been sufficient for her, which was more than enough proof of the irrationality of womankind.
"I hope you do not marry her, Fitz," Georgiana told me. "If you had wanted to marry Anne, you would have done it long ago."
I explained what I thought would be appropriate for her to know, "Although no marriage contract was ever arranged between me and Anne, Father approved of such a union and suggested that I consider it. Indeed, there has been only one woman who ever tempted me to choose another path."
Georgiana squeezed my arm tighter as she stopped walking, half turned to face me (but did not release my arm) and demanded, "Who is she? Why have you not proposed to her?"
I had no intention of sharing with Georgiana about my previous proposal to and rejection by Miss Elizabeth, but did not want to lie to my sister either. I felt it was important to not say anything to her that a girl of her years should not hear, but I could hardly avoid explaining the full nature of the problem, the main obstacle in any such union.
I began by explaining "She is not high-born, far from it, although her father is or rather was a gentleman before his recent, untimely death."
"Oh, how awful for her, so then it is her mourning that has prevented you from making her an offer?"
"No, indeed. For you see, while I believe her to be a fine woman," here I dropped my voice down, for it would not be good for a gardener or anyone else to hear me, "her youngest sister made a mistake far worse than you almost did and her failed elopement resulted in a new shoot with no family tree."
Georgiana gasped, the color drained from her face, her skin turned ashen. She whispered, "Her sister had a baby out of wedlock, and no one sent her away to prevent her shame?" She swayed on her feet and it was well that she still had a hold of my arm and that I could quickly grab her for it seemed she might faint. I hurried her over to a fortunately close stone bench and sat her down.
"I am sorry for distressing you," I sought to apologize. "I should not have told you."
I berated myself for having no sense. I was my responsibility as her brother, her guardian, to protect her from all the ugliness in life. I would certainly not distress her further by telling my sister that the man responsible for this whole debacle was one Mr. Wickham.
In a quiet voice, but one that was a bit louder than before, as if she could not control her voice as she ought, my sister declared "That poor woman, the woman that you love!" Georgiana began to weep. "It is all so unfair, to lose her father and then be painted with the same brush as her sister."
I pulled out my handkerchief and helped her dry her tears.
I opined softly, perhaps more to myself than my sister, "I never said I loved her." I was not sure if what I felt before for Miss Elizabeth was truly love, or if what I was felt before was something more transitory. Perhaps I had just given desire a nicer name. Too, if what I had felt before was love, perhaps it had died over the intervening year, an annual plant that does not survive the first frost.
"You did not have to," my sister told me with the certainty that only the young possess. "The fact that you are still pondering her, have put off yet again asking for Anne's hand, despite the shame tells me everything I need to know. For how could you ever consider such a woman whose family is so tainted if you did not have the deepest love for her?"
Georgiana quirked her lips and in a voice that was half teasing and half serious instructed "Promise me, promise me Fitz, that you would never act as foolishly as poor Romeo."
I scoffed, "Take my own life over a lost love, never."
Georgiana's tears had stopped, but then unexpectedly they began again. She grimaced, her face steeped in lines I did not know her face could make.
"What is it?" I begged and then demanded. "Tell me what is wrong!"
"I see the solution, Fitz, but I am selfish, far too selfish. Still, it should not be for many years. Perhaps I can bear it." She lightly placed her hand against the side of my face and her face relaxed.
"Yes, I see it all, in your eyes. I see your nobility, you choosing to sacrifice all that you would hold most dear, perhaps even marrying Anne to keep you from being tempted to marry this other woman instead. Yes, there is a certain logic in marrying well, to someone of wealth with no taint to her name. In doing so, you would protect the reputation of our family, but your greatest concern, why you would even consider marrying Anne when you love another, would be to protect me and my prospects. Do not deny it."
I thought Georgiana was seeing things in me that were not there and tried to tell her as much, but she would not have it. She told me, "Fitz, I want your happiness. I know your nature. You could could have no qualms in telling all of London society that it be not their business what you do, live quietly at Pemberley all year round. You are too important to those in Derbyshire for them to exclude you even if they were to hear about what your wife's sister has done.
"The only reason for you not acting in the manner that will lead to your own happiness is me. You do not want to taint me with your wife-to-be's shame." She paused, leaned in toward me and although we were alone, dropped her voice down so quietly that I had to strain to her her words. "But I tell you, that at least a portion of that self-same shame could have been mine, would have been mine, had you not come by chance when you did. Yes, I might have been married, but to marry in such a way, in such haste, to a steward's son?
"I did not understand it all then, but I do now. Everyone would have assumed we had anticipated our marriage vows, and well he might have acted toward me on the way to Gretna Green when I was under his power. The shame of such a match would not have soon been forgotten."
"No," I denied, "it would not have been so."
Georgiana made a small sound of disbelief, "You may deny it if you like, but I know the truth. I avoided that shame, but I will willingly take a portion of her shame upon me. It is no less than I deserve.
"But we will be prudent. I shall remain under the care of my aunt and uncle. We shall write letters but not visit. When I am married we will be able to visit. I can make this sacrifice for you, for your happiness."
"Oh, Georgiana!" I cried out, feeling wretched and hopeful all at the same time. "I will not ask this of you. You do not know what you are offering me. It is not right that you should give up anything for me. You attribute purer motives to me than you should."
"You have not asked it," she declared in a regular tone. "I am offering. Your happiness is surely more important than my own. Please do me the honor of accepting that I have the rationality to know what I am offering, to freely make this choice though I be yet young."
Georgiana had truly surprised me with how much she cared for me and I thought she should know that. I recalled how Mr. Collins hurt his wife with his words, rather than praising her and resolved that my sister certainly deserved some praise now. I considered carefully what I could say that would mean the most to her, and it did not take long to know what it was.
"Oh, Georgiana, with your loving kindness that you are showing to me, you remind me of our mother. She, too, was of generous spirit, gave much for our sake. You are very much her daughter."
Georgiana placed a hand upon my arm. "Thank you, Fitz. I wish I could have known her. Do you remember not long after I visited Ramsgate and was feeling blue that I had no mother to help me learn right from wrong, how you told me that she traded her life for mine? I thought about nothing else for some time and came to some conclusions. True love sacrifices, seeks another's good above one's own."
"Did I say such a thing?" I did not recall doing so.
"Yes," Georgiana said, nodding vigorously, "as least in a sense. You said that you did not doubt that if Mother was told by God that only one of us could live, that she would have given me life and taken death on herself, that this was the sort of person she was."
I recalled the conversation then. "Yes, that was how she was. You know, do you not, that she did not die right away after you were born. No, she never got her strength back, was ill for a couple of days, and then succumbed. But in that time we spoke together. She wanted to show you to me, explained that it was my responsibility to love and protect you. She gave me advice as to how to be a good man. I think she knew she was not long for this world, but her thoughts were not of herself, but of us."
I did not tell Georgiana how our mother had also told me, "Do not let your father marry you sister to just any man. I care not for his status in the world, only that he be kind to her, hold her in some genuine regard. I am afraid your father will freely sacrifice her for his own gain. You must work on him, not let him do such a thing. I want better for her than what I have had."
Georgiana and I looked at each other then and I am not sure who moved forward first, but we embraced, a hug that was too tight yet did not last long enough to communicate all the love I had for her, and how long it might be until I could but hug her again. I had not truly known before then what I would do, but speaking with Georgiana made the whole thing clear.
Although it would have been the logical option, the prudent choice to ask Miss Elizabeth to be my mistress and take Anne to wife as in doing so, I could satisfy both my desires and society, honor my father, amass further wealth and status for the whole line of Darcys yet to come, I could not do that to either of them. Anne deserved a man who wished to marry for herself, not for merely the advantages of her status. I could not, would not treat my wife as my father had treated my mother.
And I wanted all of Miss Elizabeth for myself, had no wish to risk her being cast into the pit in the hereafter to give me satisfaction now. The only way this could be was if I married her, took her to be my wife. Georgiana in her goodness had cleared the way for it to be so, if only Miss Elizabeth would agree.
As I walked Georgiana back we discussed when she wished to come out. She exclaimed that she was determined not to do it before she turned eighteen, perhaps even a year or two later. I warned, "Never, ever, let yourself be alone with a man, not even for an instant. Make sure Mrs. Annesley, the Countess be by your side, always."
Recalling my previous conversation with John, I added "Attend no house parties, do not stay with a friend, be suspicious of both men and women. You will rightly be seen as a prize and I want your reputation to be without question.
"Some might wish to trifle with you to force you to accept them. Others might wish to harm you to achieve some revenge against the Earl or one of his sons, or even against our departed father. Never underestimate the evil to be found in the hearts of men.
"The Earl may pressure you to accept someone you should not. While your cousin and I would still need to agree, it would be better to make no decision yourself without consulting with us. Any man might be able to act polite and kind for a quarter of an hour; Richard and I, we would know what he is like when not trying to impress the fairer sex."
"I understand," Georgiana agreed. Then she added, a bit of amusement in her eyes. "All your warnings make me think you are beginning to be confident of your success." She leaned closer to me and asked "Will you not at least tell me the name of the woman who shall soon be my sister?"
I whispered back in her ear, "Elizabeth Bennet." I explained that I was not certain that Miss Elizabeth would accept me, but I would certainly write Georgiana to let her know what had occurred and then joked "Perhaps I will be met with failure, and return to take you to Pemberley as planned in a sen'night."
Georgiana told me, "Do not let her say no. While she may not want to let you sacrifice yourself in such a way, you must make her see reason." We embraced again and by then we were on the verge of returning to the house. I saw her safely inside and with a final kiss to her forehead, a final quick embrace, took my leave of her.
As the carriage rattled on my way to Hertfordshire, I considered carefully what I would say. I needed to ask Miss Elizabeth to marry me in such a way that she would not, could not refuse. I was also determined to have the kind of marriage I desired.
I would not accept a limp body given to me for the mere making of heirs. I wanted someone who would give of herself as freely as a mistress would, keep me fully satisfied within the bonds of marriage. For surely in rescuing Miss Elizabeth and her family as I planned to do, in sacrificing so much for her sake, I was entitled to get what I desired and then some.
